


rejoice although you will not survive

by PUNK_MENACE



Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Caretaking, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Gen, Graphic Description, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Near Death Experiences, Self-Esteem Issues, Sort Of, Suicidal Ideation, Whump, Worry, cloud being dumb, of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PUNK_MENACE/pseuds/PUNK_MENACE
Summary: In a stroke of terrible luck, an Avalanche mission goes bad. Very bad. Cloud and the others end up trapped under a mound of scaffolding. In the pitch black, no one can see the extent of Cloud's injuries.And he'd like to keep it that way.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife
Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735219
Comments: 33
Kudos: 293





	rejoice although you will not survive

**Author's Note:**

> **Title is from Rejoice by AJJ**
> 
> This was originally going to be longer, but I realized it would be better for the narrative if I split this ordeal and the aftermath into two parts. The second one is not yet written but fully outlined.
> 
>  **Please** heed the tags and use your discretion - there are sections in which Cloud's injuries are graphically described. I beat him up pretty badly. Cloud also has some unhealthy ideas about his self-worth.
> 
> Also, I edited this myself, no beta-reader, so I'm sorry for any mistakes! Oh, and I'm not a doctor. Medical inaccuracies ahead.

Plans never go the way one wants them to. Therefore it’s infinitely wiser to expect things to go badly than to ever think one singular plan will be fully executed. Biggs is the wisest out of all of them in that sense, though the idea of Biggs being wise is laughable. Clever, sure, and not lacking common sense. It would be more honest to call him skittish or anxiety-riddled. Regardless, his presence on the team and constant overthinking is an overall advantage. Jessie and Wedge are both intelligent but fall in the average in terms of planning. Barret, on the very opposite of the spectrum, is stuck in his ways. He acts before he thinks and rushes in at every opportunity. It doesn’t mean the man is stupid by any means - he _was_ smart enough to see through Shinra’s rampant propaganda, go on to study planetology, and consequently come to the conclusion that the planet needed to be saved. 

No, Barret is not a stupid man. He is simply made of something different, something stronger, nigh unbreakable. 

It’s in his nature to leave the planning to others and take on the responsibility of strength. In terms of team dynamics, he knows where he stands, and that is being the figurative “body” of the operation as opposed to the “brain”. He knows that Biggs is his counterpart and appreciates it. Brute force on its own only works to a certain extent. Without his team, he would have failed already, having split from the main organization of Avalanche. 

Cloud finds himself balanced between the two. His cynical and battle-honed instincts allow him to assess a situation quickly before engaging. He can formulate a plan on the go. Paired with his combative skills, his plans usually include an element of brute force because he _knows_ how effective he is. He gave up his humanity for it, after all. Cloud paid a high price in exchange for the precision with which he strikes his enemies down, and it’s not like he can get a refund. His body is headed for destruction. There’s no reason to deny himself the privilege of his own skills. 

This time, his prowess wasn’t enough. His sword was sharp as ever, fast as ever, and yet it wasn’t enough. SOLDIERs are incredibly powerful but there is only so much he can do against an army of Shinra lapdogs. He had been split between two priorities: protect the others while cutting down their enemies. 

Cloud failed. He is infinitely grateful for Barret’s ability to act quickly - it is one of the only things that helped them survive the damn blitz attack. 

Well, survive _so far_. They are still in quite a lot of danger. 

Before their present situation came to be, their plan had seemed to be going perfectly fine. In hindsight, it only made sense that the longer a mission went well, the bigger the fallout would be. They had more or less written it off by virtue of simplicity, Shinra’s incompetence, and maybe even a bit of good karma. Get in, steal a fair amount of supplies from the Shinra warehouse, get out. If possible, sabotage as many of their destructive robots as they could without getting caught. It was supposed to be a stealth mission. A way to kill two birds with one stone. By stealing from Shinra, they could stock up again on supplies that are hard to come by, like blasting agents, while also taking from Shinra directly. 

It had been too quiet. Cloud had noticed it early on, told the others, but couldn’t do much more than that and keep his guard up. Though they trusted Cloud, there was no way they were going to call off the mission at that point. They hadn’t been spotted, but they also hadn’t seen many guards on duty. What few Shinra staff they did see seemed to conveniently miss the team as they moved from room to room. He should have realized what they were planning. Truthfully, he hadn’t considered the Shinra officers smart enough. They have a tendency of ignoring orders for the sake of slacking off, after all. An excuse, of course. He had let it slip by him and that was no one’s fault but Cloud’s

They had exited the warehouse, unaware that the guards had allowed them to go about their business in order to lower their guard. It worked, and Cloud will never forgive himself for it. 

Bunched together, unprepared to defend themselves and faced by a small army of Shinra officers ranging from grenadiers, riot troopers, and helitroopers to Shinra hounds and sentry guns, they had been presented with two options: fight or flee. If they had fought, Cloud and Barret would have taken the brunt of the onslaught, with Tifa defending Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge. They would have been woefully overwhelmed against a force of that magnitude. To be quite honest, Cloud isn’t sure they would have won. Maybe by dwindling Shinra’s numbers, they could have eventually managed to slip through. The problem with that is if any of them had gotten hurt, they would have been slowed down. Barret had already been carrying the supply pack. Even Barret would have been greatly slowed if he had to carry one of them. If he had gotten too hurt to move at all, they would have been doomed.

Their only option was to flee. It wasn’t the most dignified retreat, given their surprise. Cloud had stepped forward to shield them and, under fire from countless Shinra officers, was almost immediately shot in the leg. It barely grazed him, but the wound was bad enough to scare the others. As soon as Biggs saw that even Cloud couldn’t hope to escape the fight unscathed, the man had turned to Barret and begged him to run.

Where others may have hesitated and tried to think it through, Barret had simply nodded and listened to his teammate. The one thing that can get him to choose retreat over battle is if the safety of his team depended on it. Though it’s usually a more difficult decision, this time there was no room for deliberating. Perhaps if it had been just Cloud, Tifa, and him, he would have taken the chance. With the others, who aren’t experienced fighters, the threat is far more serious. Cloud and Tifa can take care of themselves. The problem comes in when the three others need protection. Not only are they unable to defend themselves as well as the three fighters would like, but it also puts Cloud, Tifa, and Barret at a higher risk. Their focus would be split between doing as much damage as possible and guarding Wedge, Biggs, and Jessie. That split could easily be the cause of a serious injury. Cloud knows that he would personally shield any of them from an attack because it’s his duty as their SOLDIER and he can take much more than an unenhanced human. 

Barret had seen Biggs’s desperation, Cloud’s injury, and changed his mind on the spot. He turned on his heel and gave those next to him - Wedge, Jessie, and Tifa - a solid push on the back to get them running. 

They had run right back into the belly of the beast. Shinra’s small army had followed closely at their heels. As they ran, Cloud took down several guard dogs and bloodhounds. He had taken up the back to give Barret cover, who made sure no one faltered. Bullets had whizzed past his ear, many of them grazing him. He suspects the only reason he had been able to avoid actually getting shot was thanks to Jessie and Biggs leading the group. It was quite a feat, thinking quickly on their feet to zig-zag their group through the warehouse while also getting them to the back-up exit. Thanks to their efforts, Cloud had slipped behind cover time and time again, able to hear the impact of the bullets right next to his ear.

Eventually, they had been within sight of the figurative back door when their plan had yet again been foiled. Shinra must have thought ahead this time and had another smaller group guarding the exit. They were armed to their teeth. That’s about where it all went to shit.

Cloud’s memory is somewhat fuzzy, but he can remember running to the front of the group as soon as he spotted the group blocking their way. He and Barret shielded the others as best as possible while they figured out another way out of the warehouse. At that point, he had been drenched in sweat and there was a generous amount of blood splattered on him. He was frustrated and tired and honestly considering taking his chances with the two sweepers keeping him from a hot shower.

Before he could attack, though, Tifa was yanking him to the right. They had originally meant to avoid this area since Shinra had been doing some construction. A huge chunk of stone had been excavated as they prepared to expand this warehouse to presumably open it up to other functions. It’s approximately a 200-meter drop. They were headed right for it.

As they ran, Jessie explained in between her panting that the excavation downwards had ended a few months ago. The construction workers then began to dig sideways to begin hollowing out where the actual facility would be. She had seen the blueprints - he’s not sure where or how she got a hold of them and doesn’t care - and saw that the new facility would be narrowly avoiding the sewer system. It was close enough, she said, that they could probably manage to blast through the stone and escape through the sewers. No one had questioned her ‘ _probably_ ’. There was no time to worry.

The two Shinra groups had merged at that point, with the dogs and sweepers taking point. The guards and construction workers had vacated the area in preparation for the assault. All they had to do was get down safely, which was an advantage just as much as a risk. The scaffolding would act as a bottleneck for the Shinra guard, whereas the team could slip down the stairs and platforms with almost no problem. The danger was in the dizzying height at which they suddenly stood. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge went first, taking the stairs three at a time. Next was Tifa, and then Barret. Cloud waited at the very first platform until the last second.

He’s not sure if that’s what caused it. Maybe he made himself a convenient target as though he were still a rookie. Maybe not, though. He _is_ prone to severe self-criticism. It seemed more like their shit luck catching up. Cloud had been backing up, readying himself to turn and run as fast as he could, when the sweepers attacked. They surged forward, crushing metal railings to get onto the platform. Cloud’s memory deteriorates further at this point, but he remembers a pair of chains soaring towards him as well as another pair headed straight for Barret. He had to choose quickly, then. Keep Barret from being grabbed or avoid the chains himself. There was no way he could pull off both, not with the angle and speed at which the chains were going. It had been easy to choose, to swing his sword and slice the chains in half, watching them drop to the floor before they ever had a chance to reach Barret. He had then been grabbed by the waist and pulled toward the sweeper. Just as the sweeper’s guns had begun to whir, he slammed his sword through its body, bisecting the AI core cleanly. 

He hadn’t anticipated any upgrades.

The sweeper had lost power right away and he was freed. Immediately, he destroyed the other sweeper and spun around. The others had been yelling his name, already a whole level beneath him. 

He had been three steps away when they exploded.

The explosion flung him forward and rocked the entire scaffolding system. The first level of platforms was instantly destroyed, and all of the flaming metal platings came crashing down on the platforms below. Everyone was dislodged. Freefalling.

His memory of the fall was smeared. Blank around the edges like an overexposed photograph. Cloud vaguely remembers pushing off of the stone wall to propel himself toward Tifa. Then, he remembers wrapping his arms around her, eyes wide open as he looked for a way to slow them down. He yelled something to the others - instructions. Something about using their grappling hooks wisely. Cloud had tried his best to avoid falling debris, but there was too much.

A chunk of hot stone smashed into his head. He hadn’t been knocked out, but it sliced a gash into the side of his face and he was stunned. The world spun even faster, and Tifa’s voice became distorted. Cloud blinked the blood out of his eye and got his grappling hook out when he saw there wasn’t much space left until the very bottom. He remembers pushing the trigger and feeling the hook snag on something, which helped almost completely stop their descent. It also pulled his left shoulder right out of its socket. Now that he can picture clearly, particularly the noise it made. He had screamed, then the wire broke, and the darkness hovering around his eyes had completely enveloped his vision. The last thing he heard was Tifa yelling his name.

* * *

The first thing Cloud is aware of as he begins to wake up is unrelenting pressure on his right side. It feels like someone is pressing down hard right where his ribs begin, but the sensation goes through to his back. He blinks, peeling his eyes open, and becomes acutely aware of the agony his entire body is in all at once. 

Devastating waves of pain radiate from several points on his body, all clamoring for attention. His left side aches in sync, his arm and leg throbbing together. His head feels like it’s been cracked open, split like a fruit, blood welling up from the gash on the side of his face. Now that he’s awake, he realizes his whole right ribcage is in pain. It’s familiar, which he appreciates - he easily recognizes the feeling of a broken bone. Gasping, mouth opening in a silent scream, he squeezes his eyes shut as his mind struggles to wrap around the unending burning in his right side. 

The ringing in his ears is impossible to ignore. Every inch of him feels bruised. He can barely remember what happened. His head is pounding so badly that every time he tries to form a coherent thought, it slips away from him too quickly to nail down. The worst of it is his side. The pain is centered high up enough that he’s worried about his lungs. Coughing, he freezes again, every muscle in his body clenching when the movement makes _something_ shift inside him. When the pain ebbs back to its normal, hellish level and he can think a little clearer, he hears someone calling his name.

“Cloud? You awake?” It’s Tifa. She’s near him, but upon opening his eyes again, he realizes it’s completely dark. 

He swallows, tasting blood. “Yeah.” Speaking hurts. His throat is raw and even that simple effort is exhausting. Cloud almost winces at how weak he sounds.

Biggs gives a dry, weak chuckle. “Well, look who’s finally awake.”

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Jessie chirps.

“How’s your arm?” Her voice is drenched with worry. He doesn’t hear her move toward him, though, which is good. He can feel the blood start to pool around his right side.

_My arm?_ The damage to his arm is veritably eclipsed by the rest of his injuries. Groggy, trying desperately not to scream, he turns his attention to his arm. Closing his eyes, he breathes shallowly and tries to move it. Big mistake. He gasps and curses, though it’s breathy and thin. It’s definitely broken. In three different places, judging by the pain coming from his forearm, near his elbow, and near his shoulder. He could barely even move it due to his shoulder being dislocated. To make matters worse, he feels that the flesh of his forearm has been pierced by his own bone. A compound fracture, then. If that doesn't get looked at soon, he’ll certainly lose his arm.

“Not good.” His own words are muffled. The crash of the metal had certainly been loud enough to hurt his eardrums.

After a moment, Tifa sighs shortly. “We had to give Barret the last potions. The rest were broken after the fall and...he wasn’t looking good.”

“M’okay now, though,” rasps Barret. “Just a few scrapes.”

Cloud’s stomach sinks. Nothing about this situation is looking very good for him. He’s not sure of the extent of the damage, but without any possibility of healing, his chances of surviving this are slim at best. 

Slowly, unable to move faster than at a snail’s pace to avoid disturbing his injuries, Cloud inches his right hand up to his body. It doesn’t take long to find what’s causing him so much pain. His fingers, trembling, come into contact with a jagged and warm piece of rebar. The length sticking out of his front is eight centimeters long at most. It must have impaled him sometime after he lost consciousness. Along with that, the impact of getting impaled as well as hitting the floor had broken many of his ribs and his arm. He also guesses that the fall had twisted his leg somehow. Though he feels that it’s straightened out in front of him, his left knee is definitely swollen. He can feel the heat radiating from it and the ligaments feel decidedly wrong. The metal had cut into his face, causing blood to flow over one eye.

His head is swimming. Assessing the damage to his body takes a while. Thinking is hard. His train of thought continuously slips through his fingers like sand, replaced by blank fatigue. Cloud has to fight to remember what he was doing. He couldn't help but drift in this liminal space created by his concussion and massive overload of pain.

At least now he knows the full extent of his injures. To sum it up, he’s completely useless. He won’t be able to move unless someone is capable of heavy-duty healing, which none of them are. Aerith is their healer, but they would never bring her along on missions. She volunteers for them all the time, but Cloud can see she’d rather not fight and does her the courtesy of insisting it’s too dangerous. The exact reasoning as to why she won’t fight Shinra directly, but would never accept Cloud protecting her from monsters, evades him. It doesn’t really matter to him anyway. He’ll keep her safe no matter what.

There he goes again. His attention span has been cut in half. It would be a lot more frustrating if he could concentrate long enough to _feel_ frustrated.

So, his left arm is out of the game. His left leg definitely can’t hold his weight. What seems like a mild concussion is keeping him from thinking clearly, along with the immense pain and worsening blood loss. Many of his ribs are broken. Normally, Cloud would be able to push through that, though not without some limitation to his range of movement. With the rebar, that isn’t an option. He’s pinned to the floor, haphazardly splayed on the uneven stone floor. Like an insect pinned to the board of an entomologist. Though he’s badly hurt, Cloud might have been able to survive this, if not for two things. The first being that they’ve been walled in by a huge pile of metal platings. It’s a miracle they weren’t crushed, but now they have no way to get out. The second complication is that the rebar definitely nicked something. Cloud suspects it’s his stomach because, at that very moment, he turns his head to the side and throws up blood. Noting faintly that he’s not coughing it up, nor does he feel like he’s drowning, he decides the rebar must have missed his lung. Hopefully, it did so at an angle that keeps any stomach acid from escaping. He’d die much slower without that happening. He feels a twisted sense of gratitude at the annoying ringing in his ears for keeping him from hearing the wet squelching of his blood splattering on the floor. It also means that the others most likely didn't hear it, either. 

“Are you okay?” Tifa asks him, not sounding overly alarmed, confirming his theory of the damage to their ears. The pitch darkness helps conceal his condition, too, as well as the distance between them. She had ended up about three meters away, judging from the source of her voice.

“Throat’s a bit dry,” he lies. No use in making everyone panic. They have no way of getting out soon, no way of healing him. All it would do is scare them. When people are scared, they do stupid things. He refuses to be the reason they get caught by Shinra. “How’s everyone else?”

“Biggs, Jessie, ‘n I are trying to figure out the best place to blast out of here.” Wedge says, sounding more tired than Cloud has ever heard him. His voice comes from farther away than Tifa’s by a handful of meters, but he’s not able to tell how much exactly. “Kinda hard without any light.”

They all sound exhausted, but not in too much pain. It’s a pretty good silver lining, in his opinion. As long as Cloud didn’t completely fail this time, he doesn’t mind dying all that much. It’s not like he had a dream to fulfill, not like the others. His life’s purpose went from being a SOLDIER, a _hero_ , to trying to build up some savings doing odd jobs. For what, he didn’t care. Shelter and food, sure. But that’s just surviving. He wouldn’t have had a real life without Tifa reaching out to him. Even so, he's not really part of Avalanche. He doesn't have the same passion. 

At least he can consider today a job well done. It’s not how he thought it would go, but that’s to be expected in his newfound line of work. Everyone is alive and there’s a good chance they’ll get out in one piece. Except for Cloud, of course. He can feel the life slowly but surely leaving his body, blood pooling all around him. It’s funny, he thinks, that the very thing that might kill him is also keeping him alive. The rebar has done catastrophic damage to his organs but it’s also plugging the gaping holes, keeping the blood from draining out of him too quickly. 

Something about his position is making a memory spark in the back of his mind. Lying on the floor, head slightly propped up by a piece of rubble. The wound in his chest makes him think of light blue Mako-stained eyes and black hair. His head, already aching, explodes in a burst of pain and static. Grief for someone he can't remember spikes through his chest. Cloud twitches, choking on the blood at the back of his throat. Even that tiny bit of movement made the pain in his side double. He curls his functioning hand into a fist. His wounds have left him so weak that his fingers barely touch his palm. It ebbs as quickly as it came, giving way to the simple ache of a concussion, though not without consequences. 

He feels blood filling up his stomach, feels the muscles in his abdomen cramp. His body convulses as he gags, unable to scream around the thick blood in his throat, nerves firing off as rebar and broken bones shift. Cloud scrapes his nails on the stone, desperate to breathe. Finally, he manages to get a hold of his body, overcoming the blinding panic. He tosses his head to the right and coughs wetly. Glob after glob of blood splatters against the stone, though he can’t really hear it. He hopes the collapse didn’t damage everyone’s ears permanently, but that seems to be the case at this point.

“Cloud? Was that you?” Tifa asks, sounding frantic. “I hurt my ankle, so I can’t come over. You have to be honest with me, okay?.” He hates making her worry. This is the lesser of two evils, though. Compared to how she would react to seeing him in this state, the stress of not knowing is nothing. 

He clears his throat, disgusted at the feeling of blood stuck to the back of his throat and dripping from his nose. “My leg is a bit tender. Must’ve...landed wrong.” Talking requires a herculean effort. Especially because he’s trying his best to sound as though there isn’t any metal sticking out of him. He closes his eyes and tries to relax. Might as well drift off peacefully if this is where he dies.

“We almost outta here?” Barret asks.

For some reason, it just doesn’t bother him that much. He has some regrets. Aerith will be furious with him, not to mention Tifa. Cloud can only hope they'll forgive him eventually. With time, they might understand why he did what he did. 

He would have liked to get a will formalized, leave a chunk of his savings to the Leaf House. With all of the jobs he’s taken on, Cloud has been able to save up a hefty amount of gil. When he had enlisted, his next of kin had been his mother. After she died, Tifa had been his next choice. The money will probably go to her even though he isn’t a SOLDIER anymore. 

Jessie hums. “Maybe. We gotta make sure we don’t blow up the wrong spot.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” Biggs drawls, “Then we’d really go _splat_.”

Other than that, he’s not afraid of death. A SOLDIER can’t afford to be. That hasn’t worn off in recent months. It’s not that he wants to die. He’d really rather not have these be his last moments. But, realistically, this is how he was meant to die. Not in a bed, dying of old age, surrounded by family. He forfeited the right to a peaceful death the moment he got into SOLDIER. When they had drenched him in Mako, he had felt it. Felt the realization that he would die violently. He didn’t struggle with it as much as he thought it would because he had chosen this path. There was no going back and no use regretting it. From then on, he knew he’d either die from the rapid cellular degeneration like many other SOLDIERs or in a battle. Violent, bloody, painful. He’s had enough time to prepare himself. Cloud has escaped death plenty of times already. It’s only natural that he would eventually run into a situation in which he couldn’t fight his way through.

Why does he feel like that has already happened? There's a nagging thought at the back of his head, threatening to bring another bout of static, but he's starting to slip away. It has something to do with the black-haired person. His body thrums with pain, and the thought slips away.

“This might be it.” Biggs murmurs. “Yeah... this is definitely our best bet. Set the charge.”

“Got it.”

“Barret, get ready.”

This death he feels hovering over him is still more tranquil than he thought it would be. Cloud had anticipated that his wounds would be many and calamitous, so there's no surprise there. But he doesn’t feel that he’s earned this quiet death, surrounded by nearly every person he cares about. He’s starting to feel colder and colder and sensation is beginning to elude him. At least the others are almost out.

That’s when he hears it. A billowing wind, one he’s learned to associate with the grey entities that appear and disappear seemingly at random. Then, over the ringing in his ears, he hears Wedge cry out.

“What the hell? Help!” His voice is getting nearer. Cloud hears a pair of boots scuffle on the stone. Could Wedge be getting pushed by one of the robed figures? Then he hears someone smacking something frantically. “It’s a ghost! A ghost is pushing me!”

Several things happen at once. A dim, flickering light suddenly blinds Cloud, emanating from Wedge’s flashlight. He must have finally gotten it to work. 

Then, an explosion rocks the alcove and a breeze of cool air fills the space. They had gotten through to the sewers.

And Tifa lets out a chilling scream. 

Wedge’s flashlight had landed squarely on Cloud, and though the bulb was dying, it was strong enough to flood the alcove with light. He and Tifa had been dragged closer to Cloud by the robed figures, who dissipated, their job apparently done. The two of them have spotted Cloud while Biggs, Jessie, and Barret were occupied with the opening. On the other end of the alcove, Barret has his shoulder wedged under hot, twisted metal. It looks like he’s holding up the opening.

“Fuck, oh fuck!” Wedge staggers backward and retches. Tifa hobbles the last few steps to Cloud’s side and sinks down.

She can’t seem to form words, though her mouth is agape. Her hands hover over him but she doesn’t seem to know where to touch. “Why...why didn’ you say anything?”

No point in lying now, he supposes. Cloud can barely keep his eyes open. He must make quite the picture, lying limp and broken. Eyes half-open, blood coating his chin and soaked into nearly every inch of his clothes, a pool of it spreading around him. There's no brushing it off this time. “No reason to. No way to heal,” he stops to cough weakly, “Why worry you?” His voice sounds foreign to him. Almost inaudible. He tries to breathe, gurgling loudly, and spits more blood. “Leave...Shinra heard. Go.”

He blinks, and suddenly Biggs and Jessie are beside him. Tifa has her hand on his face. Tears stream down her cheeks, though he can see a bit of relief in her eyes. Cloud must have blacked out for a moment.

“...Cut it. Taking it out is...question...bleed out in seconds.” 

He closes his eyes again. People shift around. 

“His sword...lift him and then...be painful. We’ll have to...quick.”

Their voices filter in and out. He’s stopped trying to understand. Cloud feels his consciousness drifting away and he knows there’s nothing he can to do stop it. He’s about as content as he can be, knowing that the others will make it home. Just as he lets his eyes slide shut for what would most likely be the last time, someone moves him.

And it hurts. It hurts so badly, his vision completely whites out, and he _feels_ more than hears a gruesome scream shred his throat. Hands are lifting him slightly, forcing the rebar to scrape against shredded flesh. He can feel bits of gore leave him, organs snagging on the ridges, feel the blood cascade out of the twin holes in his body, feels his muscles seize. When they stop moving him, he tries to inhale, but his body is in shock. Someone strokes his hair. Just when he thinks they’ll stop and let him die, he feels an impact on the rebar and then another in quick succession.

Cloud jerks. The rebar is freed from the floor and the bit that stuck out of his chest has been trimmed down. The shock of it being cut sends vibrations through the remaining rod. Again, he screams, the pain enough to have him clawing at the ground. He sobs, words falling unbidden from his lips. He begs for them to stop. For the anguish to end. His words melt together, mostly unintelligible, wet hacking coughs punctuating every other syllable. Scrabbling for purchase, he feels the floor fall away as someone lifts him up into their arms.

That’s what does it. He’s had enough. His nervous system is overwhelmed with suffering. All at once, Cloud falls away from his body, blissful sleep swallowing him up.

* * *

At first, Tifa had been completely overwhelmed. When she laid her eyes on Cloud, her head pounding from the fall and the sudden light from Wedge’s flashlight, she had felt too much all at once. Dreadful fear had nearly stopped her heart. Shocked, terrified, but not quite surprised, she had screamed at the sight of Cloud’s injuries.

His arm was bent unnaturally - it was too long and covered in black and blue bruises. A piece of bone jutted out from his forearm. She knew he had dislocated it, heard the disgusting pop on the way down, but didn't anticipate the grisly break. His left pant leg was shredded from the knee down, revealing a swollen joint. His knee is still facing the right direction, thankfully, but it looks painful and she’s worried about permanent damage to the tendons and ligaments. What had really scared Tifa was the sheer amount of blood dripping from his mouth and where he was impaled. Then she had looked at Cloud’s face, seen how gaunt and pale he was, and for a moment thought he was already dead. The eye not crusted over with blood is barely open and the sliver of blue-green that peeks through his lashes is dull and glazed over.

Her ankle still throbbed, having landed on it badly even after Cloud did his best to keep her safe, but she's glad the robed creature forced her to his side. She wanted to touch him, feel that he was still alive, but had been too terrified to try. He was just so _broken_. 

_Why_ , she had asked, though she already knew the answer. She just couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

_No reason to,_ he had said. As if that made a bit of sense. Then, Cloud had coughed, sending a spray of blood onto his soaked shirt. The sight of it kickstarted her brain. 

Now, she snaps out of the haze of panic. Cloud is still alive and his body is fighting to keep him awake and breathing. They need to work fast if he’s going to make it out. Not only that, but Barret can’t hold the opening for much longer. 

Jessie skids to a stop next to her, followed by Biggs. Tifa cups Cloud’s unharmed cheek for but a moment before pulling away and wiping the tears from her face.

Tifa clenches her fists and stands. “Listen up. There’s no way we’re taking the rebar out. I’m going to have to cut it. Taking it out of him is out of the question. He’ll bleed out in seconds.” She jerks her head toward Cloud’s sword. “Biggs, get me his sword. Jessie and Wedge, lift him and then I’ll cut it from behind. It’s going to be painful, so we’ll have to be quick. Understand?” Tifa barks her instructions. 

The three of them instantly snap back into their field mindsets, eyes sharp. Biggs nods and darts over to Cloud’s sword. It had slipped from Cloud’s back during the fall and sunk into the stone in the middle of the small clearing. He wraps two hands around the handle, plants his feet, and tugs hard. It slides out with a metallic scrape. Quickly, Biggs returns and hands it to her, staying nearby in case they need his help. Jessie and Wedge position themselves on either side of Cloud, who has stopped tracking them with his eyes. 

His time is running out.

The structure shifts, an unholy metal screech filling their ears. Barret grunts lowly, wordless telling them to hurry up. The good thing is that he isn't holding the entire wreckage by himself. The others had found the point where they could blow a hole through the platings without having the whole structure come down on them immediately. That doesn't mean he can hold it up much longer. 

Tifa nods, shifting into a low stance, ignoring the way her ankle twinges. Just a quick slice and it’ll be over as soon as there’s enough room to access the rebar. “Be careful,” she says. “Go.”

Together, Jessie and Wedge slide their arms under Cloud’s torso and, as carefully as possible, prop him up higher. As soon as he moves, Cloud lets out a bloodcurdling howl. Tifa doesn’t flinch, refuses to, and keeps her eyes on the space she’s aiming for. Jessie bites her lip. Wedge looks like he’s about to cry or throw up. She understands, but she doesn’t have time to hesitate. 

Cloud’s head lolls backward, blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. Tears stream from his eyes. Biggs clambers down so that he can cradle Cloud’s head, helping to keep him in place as they lift him a few more centimeters. Tifa lunges forward when the opportunity presents itself and brings the sword down on the rebar, two quick movements. One to free it from the stone and one to shear it short from where it sticks out of his chest. Cloud’s sword slices through it like a knife through butter. Though she did her best to do it smoothly, Cloud still screams when the metal inside him sings. 

He mumbles and coughs, incomprehensible except for a few frenzied, slurred pleads for them to stop. Tifa drops the sword into Wedge’s awaiting hands and gently scoops him into her arms. She slings his arms over her shoulders and loops her arms over his thighs, much like she did back at the Sector 7 slums. This time, his chest is pressed against hers to keep him from bending over too much. The change in position proves to be too much for Cloud. He gives one more short scream before passing out, forehead falling onto her shoulder. 

Barret yells a strangled, “Come on!”

As quick as she dares, Tifa follows the others out into the sewers. Seconds after she’s through, Barret slides out from under the structure and lets it collapse with a resounding crash. Now Shinra won't be able to follow them. Her ankle is screaming at her, protesting the added weight. Her knees buckle and she would have fallen if not for Barret steadying her. 

“Give ‘im to me.” Their stolen supplies had all been crushed along with nearly everything else they had been carrying. Potions, materia, all gone. Nothing left for them to carry but Cloud. Barret holds his arms out as if he hadn’t just been holding up however many pounds of scaffolding. His expression is grave, worry written in every line. “I can take him.”

She nods wordlessly. Gently, she shifts Cloud into Barret's arms. He takes Cloud’s limp and broken body with care, keeping one hand on the back of his head. “We have to get him to Aerith.”

“Right,” Jessie says, “Let’s see...we have to head that way to get to Sector 7. It's a straight shot.”

At least they don't have to wind around the sewers for too long. With Jessie leading, Barret close behind, and the others staying close behind to cover his back. They're all completely exhausted from the chase through the warehouse and subsequent terrifying fall. The sheer shock of finding Cloud at death's door had drained a good amount of energy from the group, too. It's unbearable to see him like that. Cloud is the very picture of health most of the time - not _mental_ health, sure, but the fact that he's a SOLDIER had left them all, even Tifa, with the impression that he was nearly invincible. He isn't, of course. But it's hard to remember that when he's defending them from countless monsters and Shinra soldiers, looking like a Greek hero.

Tifa leans her head on Wedge’s shoulder. She's got an arm slung over him, unable to put one foot in front of the other without someone bearing at least half of her weight. Without much else to do, she keeps her eyes on Barret’s back. 

She really hadn't been surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. She knows that Cloud has some serious issues to work out and she's loath to push too hard. After today, though, she can't help but think that this is her fault. If she had only forced him to be kinder to himself, maybe he wouldn't feel the need to keep all of his pain to himself. The last thing she wants to do is make this about herself, but she can't help feeling guilty. Cloud suffers every day and she has no idea how to fix it. And she's the only one that knows the extent to which he struggles. 

Barret shifts his hold slightly, splaying one hand over Cloud’s back. He stops in his tracks, sending a jolt of terror through Tifa. After a moment of stifling silence, he nods.

“Was checking his breathing. He's still going, but it's barely there. How much farther, Jessie?”

Thinking for a moment, Jessie scowls. “If we speed up a bit, 25 minutes, maybe 20.” With that, Barret continues, prompting the rest of them to keep walking. No one speaks, what with everyone concentrating on keeping a fast pace despite all of their aches and fatigue, but the quiet only lasts for five minutes. “Hey...guys?” Jessie keeps her eyes on the floor. She sounds utterly crestfallen. “Why didn't Cloud tell us he was hurt?”

Ah. Tifa should've expected this. The others weren't aware of how far Cloud would go. 

Before she can answer, Wedge pipes up. “Does he really not trust us? To the point where he won't tell us he's…” He doesn't say it, but Tifa can hear it. _Dying._

“No,” she shakes her head, dispelling the thoughts from her mind. “It's not that.” It must have started around the time most of Cloud’s problems did. “He doesn't want to burden you. Cloud isn't a team player, in that sense. He'd rather just keep quiet. Doesn't like attracting attention, either. Most of all, though, I think...I think Cloud wants to stand with his own strength.”Glancing up, she sees Wedge staring straight ahead, mulling over her words. “You'd know if Cloud didn't trust you. It may not seem like it, but he has a softer side. He just doesn't like to show it. I think eventually he will, though.”

She feels a bit of pride at the thought of her little family working so hard to make Cloud feel at home. Despite their rocky start, Tifa has seen that they've all made leaps and bounds worth of progress with Cloud. Perhaps to an outside perspective, there’s no change in Cloud’s treatment of the others, but to Tifa, she can see all the little differences. 

After that, they stay quiet, but it's not as turbulent. Her words must have made a difference. 

They progress through the sewers at a jogging pace. She would have preferred sprinting, but she can barely walk as is. She knows Barret would be going faster if he could, too. He and Cloud took the brunt of the battles and Barret had also protected the others from the full impact of the fall. Once they had landed, Barret had been in bad shape. Not as bad as Cloud, but still pretty hurt. They had given him the potions in a panic, thinking that Cloud would be okay since he's enhanced. Tifa feels a pang of guilt at that. 

_No time for guilt_ , she thinks, shakily wiping sweat from her brow. Wedge is doing his best to support her, but the night has not been kind to them. If Cloud weren't so badly hurt, they would undoubtedly have been limping home, taking their sweet time. As it is, they’ve been jogging for just long enough that Tifa is now covered in sweat and deeply uncomfortable. Every time she looks over at Barret, he’s scowling deeper, hand still pressed to Cloud’s back. Anxiety radiates from his tense frame and not once does he look away, staring straight ahead.

Finally, Jessie skids to a stop. “Here! We take this ladder up and we’ll be right outside the Sector 7 slums...maybe even right behind Seventh Heaven?” She starts to climb immediately, limbs shaking visibly, but moving frantically all the same. 

Barret shifts his hold again, wrapping one arm more securely around Cloud so that he can climb. Unfortunately, that means his machine gun smacks against every other rung loudly, the metal clang echoing in the tunnel leaning up the slums. He moves quickly, not sparing a second to look back. He's worried - very worried. 

Tifa’s heart is in her throat as she struggles clumsily up the ladders. Every time she steps with her bad foot, a shock of pain shoots up her entire leg. She's glad that her ankle isn't broken, only badly sprained, or else she would've been in agony trying to keep up with the others. 

She emerges from the open sewer grate and takes a gulp of fresh, cool air. Looking around, she sees that the sun hasn't risen yet, but by the looks of the sky, dawn is about to break. Tifa pulls herself out, leaning her full weight on her uninjured foot, forced to wait for someone to help her. Up ahead, she sees Jessie waving Barret through a familiar back alley. Biggs appears next to her and reaches his arm out.

“I’ve got you,” he says. “Let's go.”

Wedge shuts the sewer grate behind him, hurrying to catch up with them. The early hour has guaranteed that they aren't bothered as they noisily unlock and throw open Seventh Heaven’s back door. Marlene is nowhere to be seen. Tifa sweeps her eyes around the room, noting that her colorful corner of the room seems to have been deserted hours ago. Her stuffed animals are lying neatly on her bed and the sheets are not at all rumpled. She must be waiting up for her dad with Aerith.

Her heart lurches at the thought of Marlene seeing Cloud in his current state. She looks down at her clothes and notices that her front is covered in a horrifying smear of blood. Then it clicks that Barret’s clothes are also soaked in blood. The image of Cloud’s bone sticking out from his arm flashes in her mind. 

“Jessie,” she barks. “Marlene can’t see us like this. Go get her and bring her around to the back, don’t let her ask any questions. Tell her we have to talk about important business and to stay in here, okay?” 

Jessie nods and gives her a quick salute, setting her shoulders and taking a deep breath. She walks briskly into the bar. Tifa hears her say something in her syrupy, faux-cheery voice, then she hears Marlene’s inquisitive little voice. After a few more seconds, she hears the front door swing open and shut. As soon as it does, she waves Barret forward.

They burst into the bar, no longer caring how much noise they make. Half the lights are turned on, but the rest remain off, shrouding the corners of the bar in shadows. Aerith stands beside a stool, her expression a mixture of confusion and worry. Her eyes land on them, and for a moment, her face goes blank as she takes in their appearance.

“Cloud! What happened? Bring him over here, quickly!” Aerith springs into movement, skirt swishing as she runs to Barret, gesturing toward a clean table. “Don’t- wait, wait, don’t put him down yet.” She runs into the back, careful not to throw the door open, and comes back before the door clicks shut. Jessie follows closely behind her. “Let me put this down.” In her hands, she holds a plastic tarp and her staff. “Explain while I work.” 

Aerith is rarely ever this curt. She likes to chat, ask questions, and take her time. Now she rushes through her words, not a trace of her light laugh to be heard. She spreads the tarp over the table and smooths it down. Then she directs Barret to lay Cloud on his right side.

  
Barret sets Cloud down, handling him like a porcelain doll that has already been cracked. His head is limp and his chest barely moves. Aerith and Barret work to get him undressed down to his boxers. She rakes her eyes down his body, assessing the damage before making a move. “We were caught off guard at the warehouse. The only way out was down, through the sewers, but those Shinra sons of bitches blew us to hell and back. Trapped us under a big ass pile of metal.”

“Cloud got hurt on the way down. Something hit his head. He saved me.” Tifa all but collapses on the bench. Her ankle throbs relentlessly. “Barret protected Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge. He was badly injured, so we gave him the last of the potions since everything else was destroyed on the way down. I thought…” She presses a hand to her eyes, begging her headache to let up at least by a couple of degrees. “Damn it.”

Aerith places her hands gently on Cloud’s left forearm. “I see.” She looks up at Biggs and Wedge. “It’s a good thing you didn’t let Marlene see him like this. I need to set his arm, his shoulder, get this metal out of him...it won’t be pretty.” She takes in a steadying breath. “Other than that, the materia will do most of the work, except for dressing his wounds. Hopefully, we won’t have to hold him down to get this out.” She jerks her head down at Cloud’s chest. Then, without a word, she grasps her staff with her free hand. Her fingers tighten around the handle until her knuckles are white. Aerith’s face is steely and pale, her brow tightening with concentration. 

Her hand hovers just above the bone that juts out. At the very least, the wound is not as bad as it could have been. The small length of bone is lurid, but it wasn’t too badly displaced. Green tendrils of light extend from her palm and the materia in her staff, wrapping around the length of Cloud’s arm. Slowly, the ring of green tightens around his forearm, guiding the bone back into its rightful place. Then the tendrils thicken around his shoulder and, with a gruesome pop, his joint slips back into its socket.

Cloud remains stone still even as his arm creaks slowly back into its natural shape. He doesn’t even twitch. Though Tifa is glad he doesn’t seem to be in pain, she feels the blood drain from her face. Could it be that they’re too late? To be so far gone that even the pain of his bones shifting does not stir him - it fills her with dread.

Finally, the light dissipates. Tiny sparks of green flicker out and die, revealing a half-healed puncture wound and a smattering of light purple bruises. The swelling is mostly gone. Aerith wipes the sweat from her temple. 

“I can’t heal it fully. The wound in his chest will take the last of my strength, and from then on, you’ll need to continue without me. I can give you instructions, but the magnitude of his injuries will take every ounce of energy I have.” She hesitates, staring down at Cloud’s arm. “These types of fractures. They’re probably the worst. I learned from the doctor in the Sector 5 slums that they are at high risk for infection, and judging by how long you’ve been gone…Even when I’m done, he won’t be out of the woods.”

Biggs’s face is drawn, the anxiety manifesting clearly from head to toe. He’s holding himself so stiffly, it seems like one more bump in the road will cause him to snap in half. “Tifa’s got the most first aid training.” He rubs his forehead, guilt permeating his tone. “But I know how to help if- er, _when_ , I guess he gets sick. From my time at the Leaf House.”

Aerith nods thoughtfully, moving around the table to the other side. “He’s going to be very tired.” She puts her palm to his forehead and winces in sympathy. “His fever is already growing. We have to get this out now so I can heal him. It nicked his stomach, that’s why I had you put him down on his side. If he were lying on his back, he would have choked on his own blood.” Aerith strokes her hand down Cloud’s cheek once before letting her fingers fall away. “Wedge and Biggs, hold him in place. Barret, please do your best to remove it without moving it too much. I’ll start healing him as soon as it’s out, and then I’ll leave it to you guys.”

Barret wraps both hands as best he can around the blood-slick rebar. Wedge and Biggs brace their hands against Cloud’s torso. Aerith nods, extending her hand over the wound. Barret begins to pull, keeping a steady pace. Cloud does move but for some faint jerks, fingers twitching, though his face remains still.

The rebar leaves his body with a spurt of blood. It splashes down on the tarp and the puddle begins to grow quickly. Aerith flexes her hand and lets another stream of magic explode from her and her staff, twisting itself into Cloud’s body. It intertwines itself with his flesh, filling up the mess of gore, repairing it slowly. Green light floods through his body, from one end of the wound to the other. Aerith remains in place for two long minutes. Sweat begins to drip from her face and her skin goes ashen. Her hands shake as she leans harder on her staff. Eventually, the magic dwindles, tapering off as Aerith crumples onto the beach, breathing hard.

With her work done, Cloud looks far better. The ragged hole in his body is about halfway healed, like his arm, so blood continues to stream down his front and back, but the color has mostly returned to his face. Though Aerith did as much as she possibly could, he still needs to be tended to. Healing magic does a wonderful job clearing away contaminants, but it can’t cure infections. Tifa needs to suture his wounds and wrap them, give him medicine for his fever, and try to get some water in him. 

Her ankle has had enough, though. She tests it hesitantly, applying a bit of pressure while remaining seated, and nearly yelps when pain shoots up her leg. “I’m sorry, I can’t get up. Can you please get Aerith a glass of water and bring me the medkit?”

“I’m going to talk to Marlene and make sure she sleeps.” Barret sets the rebar on the table. “I’ll be back to help once I’m done.”

After that, the rest of the morning melts away. Tifa, with Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge’s assistance, manages to stitch up the two wounds on Cloud’s chest and back. Thankfully, he doesn’t wake up at all during this process, unlike the night she patched him up after his encounter with the cerulean drakes. She closes the deep cut caused by the compound fracture. The other two fractures had been healed completely since they had been much less severe. She’s grateful for Aerith’s expert healing, as she is able to save much time not having to clean each wound thoroughly. 

Tifa smears antiseptic cream on each cut before wrapping gauze around it. Then, she has Jessie wrap Cloud’s knee and ice it to bring the swelling down. There’s not much to do for it until Aerith is well enough to heal it. 

His body has been put through so much. The blood loss alone is enough to drain his energy, but with the added stress of transporting him and the infection is killing him. He’s gone through hell and back. Despite their best efforts to heal him, Cloud has to fight through this with his own strength. 

Barret comes back from talking to Marlene with a clean shirt and pants on. There’s still some blood on him, but he must have taken the time to clean most of it before seeing his daughter.

Aerith is fully asleep, stretched across on a bench. They had gotten her to drink some water before conking out. Tifa is nearly unconscious but she won’t fall asleep until Cloud is in bed. Though Barret must be on the brink of passing out - just like everyone else - he drags himself over to Stargazer Heights to get some clothes for Cloud as well as some bedding. Once he’s back, he carefully transfers Cloud from the dirty tarp to the cot in the backroom. 

With the doors to Seventh Heaven locked and Cloud finally cared for and sleeping safely, Tifa can finally sleep. She has no intention of opening for several days, so she tells the others that they can join her in sleeping in the bar. Wedge passes out sheets, blankets, and pillows - anything soft that they can find leftover after making sure Cloud will stay warm through the night. 

Her body was trembling from overexertion, like after an overly intense workout. Sleep is nearby, but she takes a couple of minutes to center herself. Cloud is alive. Everyone is alive and safe within her reach. Seventh Heaven is her comfort zone, and her whole family, even Aerith, is sheltered here. Normally she’d have to settle for knowing Aerith is in her peaceful home with her mother, but tonight, at least, she’s sleeping soundly on the bench across from Tifa. They’re all clustered around Cloud like an overprotective pack, ready to defend him.

The whole mission had disturbed her deeply. They had been incredibly unlucky, with one horrible thing happening after the other. Now, though, in the aftermath, Tifa lets her eyes close and tries her best to relax her muscles. There was nothing lost or so broken that it couldn’t be fixed. With that in mind, she can finally let herself fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed! I had fun writing it. For some reason, it was easy to write, even when I had a big ol' energy drop. Ah.. I really want to incorporate Tifa/Aerith cuz they're really cute but...I don't know how...we'll see if it happens next fic lol. Here's my [Tumblr](https://james-writes-occasionally.tumblr.com/) in case you want to yell at me or something. I also take requests :) Stay tuned for the next installment.
> 
> Edit: The next fic will be a direct follow-up to this one! Sorry for not making that clear. I hope y'all like sickfics :)


End file.
